Guest Post: The bro encounters pasta, Jake Gyllenhaal at Osteria Morini

Last week, the bro set out to celebrate the 28^th birthday of his girlfriend, LM. From a list of five potentials, he selected Osteria Morini, one of the newest downtown hot spots. Chef Michael White’s small Italian restaurant on Lafayette Street has drawn the affection of New York diners and therefore required two weeks' advance notice to land a reservation. In a LWF&D first, I’ve risked my credibility on his guest post recounting the delicious, and at times amusing, experience-- take it away, Bro:

We showed up around 8:45 for a 9:00 Tuesday night reservation. We were told by the polite hostesses, “It will only be a few minutes.” The highlight of the night came in those few minutes, during which in strolled none other than Jake Gyllenhaal. While disappointingly unaccompanied by Taylor Swift, Jake was still ogled by all the women in the vicinity, including LM. And if a male might say this without his sexuality being questioned, deservedly so. [Editor's note: You can't. Consider your sexuality questioned.]

We were led to a small table towards the back corner of the restaurant. While the ambience was nice, with exposed brick, various and sundry wine bottles on shelves and a subtle musical backdrop of easy listening fluff, I did notice that the tables were a little close for comfort to one another. More on that later.

For the Batillardo di Affettati course (what this means I don’t know) I ordered the prosciutto, and some Taleggio (which I can’t pronounce) cheese. However little I understood of what I’d asked for--somehow the waitress’s description of “funky to the nose, but creamy to the taste” led me to actually ordering it--it somehow all came out right. The prosciutto was the best I’d ever tasted, and the cheese, while rank, did actually taste pretty good. The bread medley, sourdough and shortbread, offered the perfect mini-sandwich making opportunity. Italian sliders, if you will. We were off to a great start.

For the entrees, after a long selection process, I ordered the Tortelli Della Nonna and LM ordered the Tagliatelle. I thought we had an understood splitting arrangement. I was wrong. After one bite of my beef ravioli, LM made the “tequila shot” face, called off the trade, and I was left solo to my own entrée. Fortunately for me, I found it delectable and was all too happy not to share

Tagliatelle

I think there was tortelli in here at one point

The beginning of LM’s Tagliatelle also seemed to be going well. However, as the next table’s occupants were being seated, the woman in the party pulled off the rare “jacket zamboni” maneuver, sweeping 1/3 of our table’s contents onto LM’s lap. This was met with a very awkward five minutes of laughter and apologies from the woman, offers to buy rounds of drinks, and seemingly every worker in the place trying their hand at sweeping and mopping.

Amends made and tempers cooled, we pressed on with the rest of dinner. LM handled it well, the Tagliatelle was still good, and OM’s manager came over with what turned out to be complimentary drinks for us - a very classy move indeed.

The cuisine was capped by Torta for dessert. To OM’s credit, they took care of the birthday candle I’d asked for by phone earlier in the day [Editor's note: Awwww. Way to go, Bro!]. The Torta itself was a little rich for that point in the meal, but luckily we actually did split this course, so we were able to finish. For chocolate and peanut butter lovers, it certainly did the combo proud.

Mmmmm, Torta

If given the authority to anoint a number of spatulas upon OM, I award it 4 out of 5. The food is outstanding and relatively reasonably priced. One definitely feels “cool” dining there – thanks Jake! – and the staff is clearly still attentive to the everyman customer, as evidenced by their peace offering of free drinks and remembering the birthday candle. Underrated aspects of the dining experience – constant water refills, clean bathrooms, polite wait staff – are also executed well. The downside is their popularity has caused them to cram a few too many tables in there, leading to our unfortunate happenings, and the restaurant is a bit loud until you get used to it. But overall, I’d definitely recommend it to anyone that asked. I’d just tell them bring an extra change of clothes!

Oh, and by the way, Jake was not dining with anyone famous. Disappointing, I know.

Osteria Morini

218 Lafayette Street

212-965-8777

Pumpkin goods (and me!) at Billy's Bakery!

Readers, I am proud to announce that I have returned home-- that is, to Billy's Bakery. After a year or so hiatus, I'm back in action at the beloved bakery, making things happen (or, hoping to) behind the scenes.

What does that mean for you all? More Billy's baked goods, of course! And why not start now? The other night, in my first official post-employment Billy's bite, I chowed down on a duo of pumpkin treats.

First, there was a pumpkin cupcake. Incredibly light and fluffy spice cake crowned with a swirl of creamy, tangy cream cheese frosting-- it's not strongly pumpkiny, only autumnal and delightful. This puppy goes down like water.

Isn't she a beauty?

Then, there was the pumpkin whoopie pie. It's a baseball-sized confection, definitely designed for sharing. Two halves of pumpkin cake-- a bit more substantial and cookie-like than the pumpkin cupcake's version-- are anchored together with a smear of sugary-sweet icing. It's a gut-bomb, for sure, and especially so after a whole cupcake, so I only managed a few bites. But since this is only a rare guest star in the cupcake case, it's definitely worth getting if they're on sale when you visit.

Whooooopie!

And that's that. What else is there to say? Pure fall happiness, courtesy of Billy's. It's great to be back.

Billy's Bakery
75 Franklin Street, between Broadway and Church Streets
212-647-9958

Watch your mouth at Elsewhere

After a last-minute summons last Saturday evening, I skipped out into the frigid night to meet JR at Elsewhere. It's the newest entry into the Hell's Kitchen dining scene, provided by the folks behind House of Cheese Casellula.

JR had gotten to the restaurant just before me, and apparently the host had told him there was a waitlist. I looked around the nearly-empty restaurant and asked the host how long the wait was; he said there was a table in the indoor garden area that was available immediately. Um, okay? We'll take that. Right then.

So we sat in the indoor garden, which was actually quite lovely. There's a big (real) tree, and although the patio-furniture-style tables were slightly rickety and a bit obnoxious, it's nice to have a bit of the (faux) outdoors in the city.

We ordered from the not-quite-friendly but not-quite-rude server, and our drinks arrived promptly. JR went for a glass of red. Since it was still early in the night, I went for a glass of water. Oh, and the menu notes that Elsewhere only serves water upon request. Sure. I get it (I'm actually very pro-conservation), but it struck us both as unnecessarily standoffish and/or a bit holier-than-thou to state it like that on the menu. How about just having your servers ask tables if they'd like water? That gets to the same end without the whiff of alienation.

Anyway, how was the food? The menu has options of various sizes, from "share these" to "smaller" to "larger." We chose a couple of the "share these" and one "smaller" for my meal.

The first bite to arrive was the horseradish popcorn. It looked innocuous enough, and upon first bite, it was actually rather bland. I expected a salty, spicy punch of horseradish, but it actually manifested itself in a rather creeping heat that soon filled your mouth. It was one of those things that kind of grew on you after a couple of kernels. One warning: this popcorn is absolutely, positively drenched in oil (or butter? it tasted more like oil). I had maybe a quarter of the bowl, and without going into too much detail, I'll say that that quarter bowl haunted me for the rest of the night... if your stomach is not used to really heavy, greasy foods, this will throw you for a loop. Consider yourself warned.

If you look closely, you can actually see the oil

On to lighter things. JR ordered the Dilly chili green beans, which were pickled haricots verts with a chili kick. And when I say kick, I mean "roundhouse to the taste buds," because a few green beans in and JR was positively tearing up and groping for water across the table. These little buggers were spicy as hell.

Fire in the hole!

I thought I'd escaped the fiery torment, but turns out my own selection--"baby beets, horseradish cream, chestnuts"-- was incredibly spicy as well. The little beets tasted almost pickled and were quite delicious, with an assertive vinegary bite; the horseradish cream was really mild, providing only the heat from the horseradish and very little additional flavor (it made me yearn for the tang of the traditional goat cheese accompaniment). As far as I could tell, there were no hazelnuts in this dish, only a showering of parmesan. It was an interesting take on the traditional beet salad, and on balance it was enjoyable. Plus, it cleared out my sinuses.

Also surprisingly spicy

So, I suppose it's time to rate Elsewhere. To be honest, I'm a bit torn. I really, really wanted to like the place; I wanted it to feel welcoming and warm and... well, like a big ol' cozy sweater. But it didn't. With their confusing door policy, the whole no-water proclamation, the aloof service, and the food that kicked you in the mouth, the experience was a little... aggressive. In your face. That's about it: Elsewhere is in yo' face. Would I go back? Sure, I'd give it another shot, but I doubt it will ever become my go-to neighborhood hangout. For that, Elsewhere gets three Offset Spatulas and a watchful eye towards the future.

Elsewhere
403 W. 43rd Street, at 9th Avenue
212-315-2121

Pure Thai Shophouse disappoints

Last week, Mom was in town for work, and since she's a Thai food fanatic, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to check out Pure Thai Shophouse. So on a chilly, chilly December evening, we convened in the tiny store for some eats.

First off, the restaurant's atmosphere is funky but not exactly comfortable. It's a small place with only a few tables in the back, and each table is wedged in quite intimately with its neighbors. That's one of the exigencies of being in New York, I understand, but the design aspect I took issue with was that the chairs were backless stools. Square backless stools. Not cool, and not comfortable. Unless you're at a bar, there's no reason to be sitting on a stool, and even at a bar the stool should have a back. But, you know, that's just my thing.

First, they do serve their drinks in cool crushed ice, which makes everything better, in my not-so-humble opinion.

Swanky!

But now, to the food. Mom and I both ordered the papaya salad, hers as a starter, mine as my main. While this dish (along with everything else in the restaurant) was quite reasonably priced, it actually wasn't one of the better papaya salads I've had. The earthy taste of the papaya overpowered the flavor mix, so rather than having your mouth pop with the lime, chile, peanuts, and fish sauce, the overall flavor profile was (literally) muddy. Just a little bit... blah. I've had much better. Sad.

Sad emoticon

Mom's Wok Curry Paste with Shrimp was also disappointing. She said it didn't taste like typical Thai curry, so it wasn't exactly what she was expecting. She rated it "okay" but not great, which for Mom is a pretty low rating.

Tear emoticon

And so I write this review with consternation. Everything I've read about Pure has been a rave, and I love the owners' Land restaurants, so I'm extra disappointed that our meals weren't great. Again, everything is reasonably priced, but given all the fantastic Thai joints in the neighborhood, that alone won't cut it. I really have no choice but to give Pure two Offset Spatulas and a sad, slightly confused shake of the head.

Pure Thai Shophouse
766 Ninth Avenue, between 51st and 52nd Streets
212-581-0999

The Clinton St. Baking Company Cookbook: Brownie delights

A couple of months ago, I was contacted by a kind publicist and offered a chance to check out the new cookbook of the Clinton St. Baking Company. Always a fan of a good cookbook, I eagerly assented and soon had a glossy, delicious cookbook in my hands.

Might I say, as a brief aside, that I love glossy, scrumptious, food-porn-filled cookbooks? The glossy paper, the photos that ooze calories, the chatty yet suggestive descriptions... it's the perfect relaxing read. And hey-- if you get a jolt of energy, you can even cook something! The Clinton St. Baking Company cookbook is no exception, and it's actually pretty much the pinnacle of its form. For weeks, I fell asleep reading recipes from this engaging book.

Ready to roll

Well, it took me quite a while, but I did finally cook something, and not just any something: Brownies. Mmmm, brownies. The recipe was fairly simple: melt chocolate and butter and sugar in the microwave; add some eggs and vanilla; fold in some dry ingredients. Bake and enjoy.

Bubbling cauldron

I added my own twist to these puppies, mixing some chopped heath bar into the batter and sprinkling some extra toffee bits on top.

Heath bar brownies

How did they turn out? Fan-freakin'-tastic, if I do say so myself. And I do. They were crackly on top, fudgy in the middle, with appealing little bits of crunchy toffee throughout... pretty much perfect. If you like fudgy brownies, these ones are for you; the centers are almost creamy, more like fudge itself than cake. Perfect.

Fresh from the oven

This recipe is not for the faint of heart (or those who have heart conditions...two sticks of butter, anyone?), but it is seriously, seriously delicious. A cookbook that not only looks pretty but makes good food, too? Be still my heart. If you're still looking for a holiday gift, buy one from Amazon here.

Turks & Frogs is way the hell in the middle of nowhere

Note to readers: When you look at a map of Turks & Frogs' wine bar location, don't do what I did. By which I mean, don't look at the map and say, "Hey, it's in the West Village, that's pretty near the W. 4th Street stop!" Because, uh, it's not. And it's extra-not when it's 20 degrees out and you're hoofing it 15 minutes from W. 4th Street.

Anyway, once you get there, however you choose to get there, it's actually quite nice. It's small and romantically lit, with a bar area up front and a hodgepodge of furniture and tables in the back room. Grab a seat, grab a menu, and settle in.

There are some really interesting wines on the by-the-glass menu, and many of them are reasonably priced. I chose a glass of the Emir, which was listed in the "crisp, dry, refreshing" category. And darn it, was it indeed crisp, dry, and refreshing! Mouthwatering, a bit in-your-face, but sufficiently snappy and tasty-- and all for $8. Not bad!

Crisp? Check. Dry? Check. Refreshing? Check!

I also ordered their mixed Turkish olives, a bit steep at $6. Sadly, these weren't great. The shriveled black olives were a bit raisiny; green olives stuffed with pimento had an interesting balsamic glaze but still aren't quite my cup of tea (I'm just not a fan of pimentos); and some greenish-brown olives were the best of the bunch but still not close to my ideal olive. Oh well, it was something to munch while I sipped my wine.

Meh

KS and I enjoyed Turks & Frogs, but honestly it's in such a random location that it's unlikely I'll go back. If you're in the neighborhood, though, check it out; it's a nice place to be for a few hours on a chilly evening.

Turks & Frogs
323 W. 11th Street, between Greenwich and Washington
212-691-8875

Food as beauty at Ciano

Shea Gallant's newest creation, Ciano, is located in the space that used to be Beppe, a restaurant I enjoyed quite a bit. When Beppe closed, I shed a proverbial tear, but that didn't stop me from giving Ciano a fair shake. And I'm very, very glad I did.

Ciano has changed up the dining room a bit, pushing it a bit more toward the fine-dining end of the spectrum with white tablecloths, dim lighting, and waiters in jackets. It's a warm and comfortable place to be, if a bit loud due to the close proximity of neighboring tables. And if your neighbors at said tables turn out to be incredibly obnoxious, well, that tends to be a bit of a problem. Take my advice and focus on the food instead.

Start with a glass of wine. The by-the-glass selection is rather small and a bit on the pricey side; I chose a glass of ischia bianco, which turned out to be quite thin, almost watery, and served on the rather warm side. Not something I'd order again.

Not a winner

But put your glass aside and dive into the bread. There's a good selection of small slices, a roll or two, and some small pieces of focaccia. Grab some focaccia (natch), pass right by the little dish of olive oil and balsamic, and take a large knife-ful of the accompanying truffle-ricotta-butter. Resist the temptation to spoon said truffle-ricotta-butter directly into your mouth.

Truffles? Ricotta? Butter? Yes please!

With a base of bread in your stomach, forge ahead, forge ahead. Mom started with the baby romaine salad, with white anchovy, pear, croutons, and tonnato sauce. She loved it, especially the little pops of julienned pear.

Whitish, but tasty

On to the entrees. I chose the baby beets with whipped robiola, wild watercress, and 12-year-aged balsamic. This was an incredibly delicate and ornate concoction, with tender beets in all kinds of shapes and sizes; a sprinkling of what seemed to be pistachio dust; some sort of crispy (cheesy?) tuile; and a log of the mild, whipped robiola. As a composed plate, it managed to be both satisfying and light, tasty but not too assertive. Yum.

Love the plate, too

Mom's choice was the lobster pot with rosemary butter, gnocchetti, romanesco and porcini mushrooms. She couldn't stop raving about this dish, which (it's worth noting) was crowned with substantial hunks of lobster. The little gnocchetti were some of the cuter bits of food I've ever seen-- tiny little dumplings that almost resembled spaetzle.

Lobster obscura

Don't stop there, though, or you'll miss one of the best parts (dessert, of course!). Almost before the opened dessert menu could land on the table, I had my choice: the honeycrisp apple napoleon with caramel custard, apple cider, and winter spiced vanilla gelato. This was unbelievably tasty: tiny whisper-thin wafers cradling a disk of stewed apple and a disk of sweet, smooth, ethereal caramel. The gelato tasted like the holidays-- nutmeg, cinnamon, and sugar, oh my.

Small but memorable

Mom's dark chocolate fondente was a molten chocolate cake done perfectly. It had a light gianduja flavor and a perfectly liquid center; a tiny pile of kumquats confit was a bright and acidic counterpoint. And the stracciatella gelato was entirely on point.

Chocolate

Thanks to the relatively small portions, we left full but not stuffed; thanks to the uniformly solicitous, kind, and welcoming service, we left with smiles on our faces. Prices are high, and as I mentioned portions are small, but so much flavor and care is packed into every bite, you'll still leave satisfied. Ciano is absolutely a four Offset Spatula asset to the restaurant landscape, and I hope to return soon for some more delicious, thoughtful, and (dare I say?) beautiful food.

Ciano
45 E. 22nd Street, between Broadway and Park
212-982-8422

Some more pure flavors at Grom

After dinner at Snack, BD and I skipped over to Grom to cash in a gift certificate I'd bought on discount a while ago. I had $10 in credit, so we both ordered small cups, and I threw in an extra $.50 to make up the difference.

Our experience was consistent with my other forays into the wide and wild world of Grom. The flavors were incredibly pure and intense. BD's pistachio flavor, despite being an unappealing muddy brownish-green, tasted like eating a mouthful of cool, pureed pistachios. My half-nougat, half-stracciatella had the crunchy, nutty elements from the nougat flavor and the straight-up cream and slightly bitter dark chocolate of the stracciatella.

Pistachio

Lots of spoons = lots of samples

There's no mistaking it; Grom is good. It's filling, and a little goes a long way. Unfortunately, you definitely pay for the privilege; $5.25 for a mere half-cup still gets my goat. Ah, well, sometimes when you need some gelato, you just have to let Grom get the best of you for a moment.

Grom
233 Bleecker Street at Carmine Street
212-206-1738

Greek bites, full bellies at Snack

Last weekend, BD was in town, and we decided to meet for dinner before his friend's improv show. A reasonably priced meal in the Village at someplace I'd never been before? That was a challenge. After some diligent opentabling, I landed on Snack Taverna, a small Greek joint about which I'd heard good things. We were set.

I arrived a few minutes early, taking solice from the chill in the warm and inviting dining room. After seating the group in front of me, the host greeted me. I gave my name and he checked my reservation. Then, the awkwardness: "We have your reservation," he told me. "But we tend not to seat incomplete parties..." Trailing off, he seemed a little uncomfortable. And I could see why: I glanced to my left, toward the small, six-seat bar area, whose six seats were all full. I glanced around the rest of the tiny restaurant and its many empty tables. "Well," I replied, "Given that there's nowhere else to sit or stand except for at a table, is there any chance you'd be able to seat me? Otherwise I will literally just be standing here." And that was true-- I was standing in the narrow doorway to the restaurant, and if I weren't shown to the table, I would quite literally just be standing right there until BD arrived. "Yes, of course," the host then gushed, "Yes, we can seat you." Great. All righty. Ready to roll. Now wherefore all that awkwardness, eh?

He showed me to a tiny, tiny table tucked next to the partition at the end of the bar. The table itself was miniscule, and it was shoved in next to the neighboring party of two, who were so close that I brushed both their persons and their table merely trying to slip into the seat. Once seated, I knew damned well I wasn't getting up for a quite a while.

Fortunately, BD arrived only a minute or two later, and we commenced ordering. Our server was friendly, funny, and personable, a true highlight of the meal. And though were ordered relatively quickly, it took quite a while for the food to arrive (a problem our neighbors also experienced)-- it seemed the kitchen was a bit overwhelmed by the half-full dining room.

Once the food did arrive, however, it was all worth it. BD chose the skordalia crusted Atlantic cod, served with cranberry bean "fassolada," squash, red peppers, and baby arugula. While the top half of the garlicky blanket seemed, honestly, burnt (see the picture--surprising that they'd allow that to come out of the kitchen), BD raved about the flavors and textures of the dish and the fact that it was a good portion without being an overwhelming amount of food.

Yikes

My pick, the special salad of the day, was also a hit. It was a plate of roasted vegetables served with melitzanosalata (garlicky eggplant puree) and a big ol' slab of feta. After smelling the aromatics around me, I expected the vegetables to be warm, but they weren't; even chilled, the sharp flavors popped. The melitzanosalata was especially good, although not a good option for daters (its potent bite lingered on my breath for hours). The feta was salty and creamy, everything good feta should be. And there was a good mixture of veggies, from roasted tomatoes to beets to zucchini, squash, mushrooms, eggplant, and scallions. This was filling and a satisfying value for $12.

Smorgasbord of vegetable matter

Snack is an interesting little beast. The service isn't exactly silky smooth; awkward and lengthy at times, it can also be warm and enthusiastic (if you get the right server, that is). The food, while certainly not cheap, is quite tasty. And the dining room is a nice place to be, if you don't mind a certain amount of intimacy with your neighbors. While it wouldn't necessarily be my first choice for a return visit in the Village, or even necessarily the first Greek restaurant to which I'd return in the city, I certainly wouldn't mind going back for some more tasty Greek bites. As such, Snack receives a respectable three Offset Spatulas.

Snack Taverna
63 Bedford Street
212-929-3499

A bit more than standard at Primebar & Grill

It's always tough to choose what to eat the few days after Thanksgiving. Ostensibly, you've been doing your civic duty by trying to eat your way through the leftovers in the fridge to the extent you can, but once you reach Saturday afternoon or so, you usually run out of steam-- either you can't stomach the idea of another turkey-and-stuffing sandwich, or you're left with an obscure combination of leftovers that doesn't really lend itself to a meal (canned cranberry sauce, mashed sweet potatoes, and wilted green bean casserole, anyone?). Regardless, it's usually time to venture back out to the restaurant world, if only to get a respite from your own kitchen.

This year, my parents and I took the Saturday evening meal at the new-ish Primebar Grill in Wayland, MA. This location used to be home to our favorite local Italian joint, Luigi's, so the existence of Primebar will always be slightly bittersweet. However, good food is always welcome, so we went into dinner with an open mind.

The owners of Primebar surely spiffed up the joint; it's now a welcoming, casual place, filled to capacity with groups and couples enjoying food and drinks (and reveling in the turkey-free atmosphere). We settled into a spacious booth and ordered from our friendly, obliging server, who fielded our laundry list of special requests with aplomb.

Bread is brought only upon request, but be sure to request it-- it's quite good. It's much better than it needs to be, actually: warm, yielding ciabatta rolls with a yielding crust and a tender interior. The ice-cream-scoop of butter is just what you'd expect.

Mmmm bread

Mom started things off with a side Caesar salad; she enjoyed it, but it surely didn't impress on looks alone. Romaine, a few shavings of parm, five croutons, check.

Straight out of a Dole Caesar Salad kit

Then the main courses: Dad went with the warm steakhouse salad, with sirloin, greens, red onion, mushrooms, and tomatoes. It's a good portion, for sure, and Dad gobbled it down. The ingredients, however, seemed to suffer from the same problem my salad had...

'Shrooms & beef

...Which was that they seemed to be straight out of the mid-90s. The "mixed greens" in my Mediterranean salad were iceberg and more iceberg. A few chopped bell peppers and some halved cherry tomatoes provided some vitamins; the three or four segments of beets added sweetness. The feta cheese was the only ingredient present in both ample quantity and above-par quality, creamy and tangy in all the right ways. There was nothing wrong with the salad, per se; it's simply that there were so many easy ways to make it a little better, a little more upscale, without too much trouble. And for $11.95, I'd expect the kitchen to have seized at least some of those opportunities.

Is Full House on tonight?

Mom's crabcakes were a winner, however. They were lightly done, not heavily fried, as requested, and they were mostly crabmeat rather than filler-- impressive. The only curious element of this dish was the "seasonal vegetable" side, which that evening was butternut squash. While we were all expecting something roasted, or perhaps baked, or maybe even pureed, what arrived was seemingly deep-fried (and frankly looked like plantains). That's the most unusual preparation of butternut squash I've ever seen. I think Mom was a little disappointed.

Trio of large cakes. With plantains.

One Thanksgiving foodstuff we hadn't yet tired of (and still had ample supplies of at home) was dessert, so we finished our meal at that point and headed home for some sweets. Overall, Primebar is no Luigi's, but since it's not an Italian restaurant I suppose it doesn't try to be. I like the restaurant's atmosphere, and there are definitely some highlights on the menu, but for the prices (substantial even by NYC standards), there are some easy quality improvements the kitchen could stand to make. That said, Primebar has the makings of an occasional family standby, so I suppose that means it earns three Offset Spatulas. Here's to hoping the kitchen upgrades some ingredients in the future.

Primebar Grill
131 Boston Post Road, Wayland, MA
508-358-2400